Mudlark No. 44 (2011)

Last-Known Coordinates in Hand

But how could we ever catch up 
with the walking bridge
when it uproots itself at whim 
to saunter 
through the unappeasable,
middle of things, 
trailing its wake of water, 
gouged earth and stone,
and moulting, molten light?

Claire Bateman | Mudlark No. 44 (2011)
Contents | Merciless